Taming the Tranny
by ConfusedColumbia26220
Summary: In a new world where lives are treated as worthy as the money in their pockets, could an alien from the planet of Transsexual be the savior of a singer who has nothing left to lose?
1. Introduction

The stay at the castle was beginning to become rather dull, as Columbia prattled on endlessly about who-knows-what, Riff Raff continually messed things up, and Magenta proceeded to be an utter, homesick bore. No Earthlings dropped by for the using, either. Frank decided to go out and catch an opera, little did he know that one event would change my whole view of the world; Earth or otherwise. He observed those around him. They certainly weren't the typical, clean-cut Earthlings he'd grown used to seeing. In fact, he believed some very well might fit in on Transsexual. It was nice to feel comfortable for a change. Maybe he'd go out more often. 

"ZYDRATE AWARENESS! Here. Have a flyer." Frank looked down at the paper thrust into his hand. It depicted graphic images of how Zydrate was harvested. He raised an eyebrow and tossed the flyer aside. Shortly after, he found the line for the opera. As he waited, he continued to observe.

As Frank stood in line, he saw a promotional poster of the opera, which was a one-woman performance. The woman's beauty was obvious, enough to both desire and envy. He imagined the woman would also have a fantastic voice, but the reality was far beyond his imagination. He found, once the opera began, that the woman emanated grace and charisma, and just a hint of sadness. Frank was mesmerized, and soon knew how many others felt while gazing upon him so many times before.

He was actually a tad disappointed when the opera came to a close. Then he realized he could meet the incomparable work of art herself. While many still stood in standing ovation, Frank slipped out to the side door of the theatre.

_

Mag stood on the stage in the Opera House. The House was empty; Mag was rehearsing for the night's charity event. Constantly forced to jump through hoops, Mag's heart wasn't into it. But she still delivered her song flawlessly. She had long since finished rehearsing and sat backstage, looking into her vanity mirror. She adjusted the top to her strapless red gown and re-dusted her face with loose powder. The years had taken their toll on her and her face showed premature aging. She rose to take the stage. Surveying her audience, she sang. But the audience seemed faceless to her; nothing more than puppets in Rotti's hands. She sang a story of a bird, lost and afraid, unable to be helped. It matched her perfectly. Mag too, felt lost, alone and afraid.

After taking her encore bow, Mag slipped offstage. Her mechanical eyes were looking straight ahead, a blank look filling them. She passed through the paparazzi that had VIP passes to take pictures of her backstage. A few lucky fans had managed to secure said passes and called out to her. Plastering on a fake smile, Mag shook hands and signed autographs. She posed with a few fans and accepted a large bouquet of red roses. Rotti came from a side door and stood with her, hamming it up for the press. Mag smiled woodenly and pretended to be pleased with the attention; all she wanted was to escape. Throughout the whole ordeal, Mag was unaware of one particular person in the shadows.


	2. Meeting

Frank didn't like the old guy, no, not one bit. He raised a lot of red flags. He waited patiently for the crowd to dissolve, and rather impatiently for the old fatty to leave. Eventually, his patience paid off. He stepped closer to Mag, and not wanting to alarm her, spoke softly, "You performed beautifully." He awaited some form of reply.

Mag turned to the voice. She came up to the stranger's chin, so she tilted her head up slightly. He had dark, curly hair and wore makeup. Oddly, it didn't bother her. Much of Sanitarium's population practiced odd habits. "Thank you…" She trailed off, waiting for a name.

He smiled, realizing he should introduce himself. "Frank, or you can call me Frankie, whichever you prefer." He flashed his trademark, subtly seductive smile. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance." He offered her his hand to shake.

Biting back a smile, she replied, "I'm Mag. Or Blind Mag, my stage name. Charmed." She placed her free hand into Frank's. It was warm and strong.

"Enchanté." Frank gave her hand a gentle squeeze and looked into her unique eyes.

A smile shone through Mag's careful façade. "I'm sorry. I haven't seen you here before. Are you new to Sanitarium?" She moved to sit at a small table tucked away in a corner. She placed the roses on the table and moved to sit down.

"Not quite new, just haven't been out, much." Frank decided to sit across from her, down at the table. "Might have to change that, now. I've never before seen such a performance that's worth multiple viewings."

Mag smiled openly. "Well... thanks. I try to do what's... I mean I try to do my best." She'd almost let slip that she was forced into the service. She'd been conditioned by Rotti to tell any friends, press or suitors that she in fact enjoyed her 'job'.

Frank could see the sadness behind the façade, once again. "You've been at this a long while, I can tell. I believe we have a thing or two in common."

"Seventeen years," she murmured. "Rotti helped me see. And he liked my voice. He offered me a job to pay for the surgery. I couldn't be happier. I'm proud to support GeneCo in anyway." Once again Mag fed Frank another cock-and-bull story that she'd been taught to recite to outsiders.

"How many times have you said that?" He propped his head up on his elbow, looking into her eyes again. "You see, I'm just not buying it," he makes sure to keep his voice low. "Your words say one thing, but I can sense your unhappiness the same way I can detect Jimmy Choo knock-offs."

Mag blinked. She didn't get the Jimmy Choo reference. The way Frank gazed at her made her a little uncomfortable. Never had anyone ever called her out on 'her' lies. Usually, the person receiving them would eat them up without question. "Those are shoes, hon," Frank stated. "Very stylish ones at that. They should be making a comeback soon enough. Though your silence authenticates my theory to be fact. Now come on out of your shell and tell Frankie what you truly feel." His voice had a soothing, inviting lull.


End file.
